


Field Work

by singagainsoon



Series: "The Things That Stay" 'verse [10]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Face-Fucking, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim (2013), Post-Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018), Public Blow Jobs, Public Hand Jobs, Science Boyfriends, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 03:10:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15330432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singagainsoon/pseuds/singagainsoon
Summary: “Newton, do put that mouth of yours to better use,” Hermann hisses, tightening his vise grip on Newton’s hair.





	Field Work

“God,” Newton breathes, almost reverent, dropping heavily to his knees on the hard tile floor. “I’m gonna miss you.”

Hermann nods his agreement and braces himself against the wall. Three abysmal weeks without Newton feels near-unfathomable at this point, though Hermann is grateful for the field work opportunity afforded him by the university. Newton has been getting restless despite his new job, and although marine biology is hardly on par with k-science, every small thrill counts these days. He casts a glance at the door; perhaps that is a contributing factor to their current predicament. Hermann never in his lifetime would have expected himself to be the sort of person to receive a blowjob in an airport closet, but the adrenaline pulsing urgently through his veins only serves to excite him further.

Newton wastes no time unbuckling Hermann’s belt, pausing to nose teasingly at the hard ridge of his erection through the front of his loose-fitting trousers. He inhales sharply, fighting valiantly to retain some miniscule bit of dignity as though there is really any dignity left to salvage after having one of Newton’s tentacle-shaped dildos shoved up his ass on more than one occasion.

“A-and I you, darling. Must you go alone?”

Hermann is torn between cupping Newton’s cheek and kissing him sweetly, and remaining upright and allowing Newton to do exactly what it is they had crammed themselves into the less-than-sanitary nook of the airport closet for. Newt’s gaze flickers up to Hermann from where he is settling in between Hermann’s already-trembling legs, looking every bit as lovely as Hermann used to spend feverish nights imagining that he would. He smiles, making quick work of yanking Hermann’s pants to the ground.

“I wish I didn’t, Herm, I really do. Even if you could tag along, you’d be alone all day. I’d be out doing field work,” Newton laments, cupping Hermann through his thin cotton underwear, thumbing him like a well-read book, eyeing Hermann with the same unabashed, excited curiosity he reserved for the specimens he used to dissect in their lab, “And you’d be… not doing that.”

Newton palms him, grinds the heel of his hand against the persistent shape of Hermann’s hard dick, and Hermann groans softly. His insides go liquid so quickly that he fears he may be done for already. He had been expecting to see Newton off and return home, perhaps run a bath and take care of this himself like a chore. This is better by far. His hips jerk forward, sharp and quick, into the cradling warmth of Newton’s hand. Hermann’s hands fly instinctively to Newton’s hair, fingers carding roughly through the strands as he struggles not to pull at them too roughly. His dick aches, throbs with wanting so strong that it runs in hot bursts down his thighs when Newton frees him from the confines of his underwear and leans forward to press a chaste kiss to the base of his cock. Newton’s lips are soft, swollen from the aggressive eagerness with which he had set about making out earlier, and he peppers Hermann in feather-light kisses. Without bothering to pause in his ministrations, Newton pushes his fogged glasses up into his hair alongside Hermann’s fingers. Nearly as pleasant as Newton’s lovely pink mouth is the buzz of their neural link humming in the foggy back of his mind, intoxicating and urging him on. Newton feels it too, he can tell. Hermann sighs and tips his head back to rest against the closet wall.

“Good thing my flight got delayed, huh? Even though with the way you drive, I didn’t think we were gonna make it on time anyway-”

“If you were perhaps a bit less insistent on sleeping in,” Hermann says dryly, watching the way Newton’s eyelids flicker when he rolls his eyes. He gives Hermann a light squeeze, pumping his hand a bit too slowly for Hermann’s thinning patience. Hermann bucks his hips, urging him on to no avail.

“Oh, right, it’s all on me!” Newton swipes his thumb over the head of Hermann’s cock, deliberate and entirely nonchalant in spite of Hermann’s poorly concealed whine. “If _you_ could quit being so overbearing-”

Hermann’s indignant little screech melts into a moan when Newt tilts his head to lick a wet stripe along the underside of his dick. He clenches his fist in Newton’s hair and exhales raggedly. “I believe the word you’re searching for is _responsible_ , or perhaps _organized._ It’s hardly any - _mmm_ \- fault of mine that you're so dead-set on being impossible.”

“Improbable,” Newton corrects, swirling his tongue around Hermann’s head.

“N _ewton_ , do put that mouth of yours to better use,” Hermann hisses, tightening his vise grip on Newton’s hair. Newt grins, the mischievous glint in his eyes sending a stab of attraction shooting down the length of his spine directly between Hermann’s hips, right to the leaking head of his cock. Hermann shivers, the air pouring from the vent above him cold and unrelenting. “I’m fortunate that you even managed to pack in time- _oh._ ”

Newton gives him a slow, teasing stroke, studying Hermann’s face through half-lidded eyes before at last bending his neck, dipping his head forward to take Hermann’s tip in his mouth. A little burst of stars pops behind his eyes, dizzying him. It is electricity, crackling up and down his length and threatening to send him prematurely over the edge. Hermann bites down on his bottom lip hard enough to break the skin; he tastes the faint metallic tang of blood in his mouth, though it is not sufficient to stifle the strangled moan that wrenches itself from his dry throat. Hermann is almost ashamed of how easily he responds to Newton’s touch, to the mere notion of it even after all this time. He can hear himself breathing, raspy and gasping, pitiful and helpless. Newt pulls back to mouth at the head of Hermann’s dick, to smirk up knowingly at him, lips pursed Just-So when he elicits an entirely _un_ dignified sound. Hermann’s leg wobbles, his knee trembling beneath the strain of pleasure, and he frees a hand from Newton’s hair to scrabble to steady himself against the wall. A broom clatters loudly to the floor, startling him nearly back to what remains of his senses.

Newt, unfazed, places a neat little trail of wet kisses along the length of his achingly hard erection, pausing where the head meets the shaft. Hermann twists his nervous fingers in Newton’s hair, perhaps just a bit too hard, and Newt sucks down again. He bobs his head, easily accommodating more of Hermann’s length than before as though it was the simplest of tasks. Newton makes blowjobs look easy, all faint humming and pink cheeks and mostly-absent gag reflex. Near-faint with pleasure, Hermann catalogues the minute details: the spit and drool leaking from the side of Newton’s swollen mouth, the messy shine to his lips. He brings his free hand to stroke idly along the pale expanse of Hermann’s thigh, his touch lighting tiny fires beneath his skin.

Hermann swallows the moan that rises thick in his mouth, suddenly hyper aware of the steady chorus of footsteps passing in front of their hiding place. Logically, Hermann should be concerned that someone might discover them - and he supposes distantly that it is a rather plausible concern -  though the thought does not fill him with shame the way it might under another set of less-pleasurable circumstances.

“Newton- Newton, look at me.” Newt obliges languidly, though the sight of his cheek bulging obscenely does little more than set Hermann’s pleasure-hazy brain into an even more subdued state. “Someone could walk in on us. We ought to bar the door, or- or lock it.”

Newt hums around him, working the rest of Hermann’s unoccupied shaft. He screws his eyes shut, relishing in the feeling of both Newton’s warm, wet mouth and his expert grip. Newton releases him with a wet _pop_ and licks his lips. He wipes at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. “Just relax, Herm. Nobody’s gonna walk in.”

“They _could_ , though. All they would have to do is open the door, and-”

“C’mon, isn’t this more fun, though? Isn’t the danger, like, exciting?” Newton does not leave room enough for Hermann to choke out an answer before his tongue darts out to lick at Hermann’s slit, to lap at the precome that leaks steadily down Hermann’s length and Newton’s hand. Newt squeezes him once more, twists his hand and works him effortlessly. His hips thrust desperately into Newton’s hand, begging silently for the friction.

“ _Exciting_ ,” Hermann scoffs indignantly. It is, just a bit, but he does not feel the need to vocalize this to his fiance. Newton continues to jerk him off, ever the shining example of virtuous patience with Hermann’s particularities.

“Do you want a bee-jay or do you wanna fight?” He teases, leaning further forward to brush the straight slope of his nose against Hermann’s thigh. Hermann breathes a sigh when Newton tilts his head, fitting his nose and mouth against the base of Hermann’s dick to cover him in slick, open-mouthed kisses against. His cock throbs in time with his frantic pulse, his hammering heart. Hermann’s bones feel as though they have turned all at once to mush inside his body; and his leg wavers dangerously where it rests on the side of Newton’s stubbly face.

“ _Ah-_ oh, Newton, I… I need to-”

“It’s alright, you can come,” Newt says, grinning and no doubt pleased with himself, lips glistening beneath the harsh fluorescent lights. The sight of him nudges Hermann ever-closer to the precarious line between buildup and orgasm, but he shakes his head weakly.

“No, I need to sit down.”

Newton releases him in favor of taking off his jacket, fumbling hastily with the sleeves when his arm gets caught, and easing Hermann to the ground to sit on it. He all but collapses against the closet door, grateful for the sturdy fabric of Newton’s jacket beneath the slight curve of his bare ass. He swallows a remark about the unsanitary nature of the floor when he catches the hunger glinting in Newton's mischievous eyes. Newt rubs soothing circles into Hermann’s thigh, aware of the strain there, stretching his leg and positioning the two of them as comfortably as he can arrange given their space constraints. His boot-clad foot knocks against an empty mop bucket, prompting a chuckle from Newton’s otherwise unoccupied lips. Hermann’s lips pull downwards into an unamused line.

“Nobody’s gonna come in- Jesus, Herm, look at you,” Newt mutters. He pulls Hermann’s trousers from where they had bunched around his ankles and tosses them carelessly to the side, ignoring Hermann’s muffled screech of horror when they narrowly miss landing in a bucket.

Even so, Hermann spreads his legs hoping to be enticing, bent carefully at the knees; and Newton, still kneeling, slides easily, happily between them. He leans forward to press a gentle kiss to Hermann’s mouth, tasting faintly of salt, mapping a trail from his lips down his jaw, from his neck back down to the sensitive skin just below the sweet little twist of Hermann’s navel. Hermann watches him, enraptured. He never tires of seeing Newton like this. Newt gives Hermann a few experimental strokes, face hovering above Hermann’s aching dick, his eyebrows raised quizzically.

“That okay?”

He nods, threading his fingers back through Newton’s hair, and tugs him gently, eagerly back to his position between his thighs. Bickering aside, Hermann has not softened in the least. “Yes, darling, you’re doing wonderfully.”

Newt mouths at the saliva-slick skin, Hermann’s sensitive nerve endings dumbly registering the beloved shape of Newton’s mouth with every sloppy kiss. He moans feebly, something halfway between Newton’s name and a half-hearted complaint about the still-unlocked door, though he is too dizzy with arousal, with pure painful longing that it comes gasping and garbled. The soft fabric of Newton’s t-shirt stretches tight between his shoulder blades, shifting with the steady pumping of his hand. Impatient, Hermann pushes Newton down mouth-first onto his swollen dick as gently as he can manage, all factors meticulously considered. Newt takes him all the way down this time, gagging deliciously but staying down and swirling his tongue around Hermann. Hermann’s hips stutter, and something inside him clenches. He drops his hand from Newton’s sex-ruffled hair to his jaw, fingers brushing lightly against the delicate shell of Newton’s ear. Newt shudders and pulls his head away a bit only to suck Hermann back down again until his eyes begin to water at their crinkled corners. Hermann’s nerves spark, frazzled and short-circuiting with every passing second. He certainly will not last much longer this way, not with the tight coil of white-hot wanting sitting heavy in his belly.

“May I- _oh_ , Newt-”

Newton pulls off him with a lewd _pop_ and meets Hermann’s pleasure-stupid eyes with his own, leaning his cheek into Hermann’s touch. “May you what?” he prompts, lips quirking in a self-satisfied smile. He knows how Hermann hates to put his desires into words, just as Hermann knows precisely how much Newton loves to hear them vocalized. It really, reasonably, should not feel awkward anymore, not after everything; but it does, at least to Hermann.

Something twists itself into a hard knot in Hermann’s stomach, tightening impossibly, pulling like a pleasure-stepped muscle. He arches his back, pushing his hips forward. Newton eyes him expectantly. “You gotta tell me what you want, Herm.”

“I want to- Goodness, if I must say it, I want to cum in your mouth,” he mutters, face burning, cheeks red. He can feel the deep, blotchy flush creep down his neck beneath the collar of his shirt, onto his chest. Newton requires no further instruction, jerking Hermann’s cock with one hand and parting his lips to allow Hermann to thrust himself back into Newton’s hot, wanting mouth.

Hermann slides his hands from their home in Newton’s hair to keep a firm but gentle grip on his face, stilling him against the buck of Hermann’s hips. Hermann fits his fingers into the shape of Newt’s visage, the knots of his long hands resting easily: ring finger tucked beneath his earlobe, pinky finger stroking along his jaw, middle and index fingers above Newton’s ear. Hermann’s thumb strokes dumbly at the edge of his mouth. He is drooling again.

"Sloppy thing," Hermann murmurs, not unkindly, watching Newton's face pinch a little beneath the splay of his hand, his delicate eyelids fluttering. 

Newton moans around him, accepting Hermann to the root with little more than a low gagging sound, allowing Hermann to fuck his face with what strength he still possesses. Hermann vaguely registers the muffled sounds of the airport beyond the door, distant as if he is hearing them over his own high, needy moans from underwater. The force of Hermann’s orgasm is a star exploding, the simultaneous birth and collapse of a far away universe ripping through his body. He shakes, hips jerking and stuttering out of his control. Newton swallows obediently around him, not a single complaint other than a string of choked moans and a half-gag, but he strokes Hermann through the rolling waves of the aftershocks, greedily wringing a second orgasm (and a new wave of pitiful, breaking cries) out of Hermann’s overstimulated cock.

Hermann struggles to catch his breath, trembling all over. What is left of his good sense begins its gradual return as Hermann comes down from the pseudo-high that orgasming brings him, but all he can do is blink lazily, still a bit stunned. Newton sits up, folds himself forward to wrap one arm around Hermann and settle his other hand on Hermann’s hip. He laughs like it has been bubbling up steadily in his chest the entire time, and Hermann cannot help but laugh, breathless and rumpled and entirely satisfied, with him. Hermann bumps the high slope of his forehead against Newton, pink-cheeked and sated, and kisses him.

Newton tastes of cum, filthy and briney and lingering in his mouth, but Hermann kisses him regardless as though there is nothing sweeter. As far as Hermann can tell, there isn’t. Newt rubs his palm soothingly over the angle of Hermann’s hip, down his thigh and back up again. Hermann curls his toes within the confines of his sock, his shoe, working the muscles through the pins-and-needles sensation that shoots up his leg. Newton kneads the disjointed peak of his hip carefully, prodding the muscles there with well-practiced fingers. Hermann does not bother concealing the flicker of a wince that creases his brow.

“Okay?” Newt asks gently, leaving a chaste kiss at the corner of Hermann’s partly-open mouth. He nods, still panting, willing his shaking fingers to cooperate and tuck his softening cock back into his briefs.

“Yes, _liebling_.”

Newton takes exaggerated pity on Hermann and helps him pull his discarded pants back on, one leg at a time, making a show of smoothing the wrinkles as he goes. He does up the button, zips his fly, kisses Hermann’s flat belly with a sense of affectionate finality. Before Newton can make the effort of getting to his feet and brushing off his jeans, Hermann pulls him back into the concave shape of his still-heaving chest. Newton’s familiar weight balanced against him is sweet and grounding. The prominent bulge of his own unattended erection pokes Hermann just below his ribs. Newton's sore lips part, no doubt to question Hermann’s intentions, but the beginning of his queries dissolve into a groan.

Hermann works his hand wordlessly into the front of Newton’s tight jeans, only made tighter by the urgent erection that brushes stiff against Hermann’s fingers. Newton’s eyes flutter closed, and his head drops heavily to rest in the soft crook of Hermann’s neck.

“ _Herm,”_ he chokes, pushing his hips hard,  shamelessly into Hermann’s palm. “We-”

“ _This is the final boarding call for-”_

Newt casts a glance at the door behind Hermann, the ghost of panic flickering across his glassy gaze. Hermann wraps his fingers around the length of Newton’s cock and _shushes_ him, bringing his free hand to rest flat on the small of Newton’s back and draw him closer. “There’s still time, darling. That isn’t your flight. Come on now, just relax, hm? And you call me a worrier,” he mutters, nuzzling his cheek against Newton’s concerned face. Newt exhales a sigh and slumps into Hermann’s frame, resigned to let Hermann coo over him.

Hermann releases him to pop open his jeans, an eyebrow arching delicately in silent approval at the sight of Newt’s pink cock standing at stiff attention against his stomach. He consideration, briefly, pushing a finger or two into him just to see the lewd expression on his face, but Hermann decides against it. Judging by the look of him, the flush of his face in the too-bright light, Newton will not last long. Newt shifts his weight back onto his knees, mindful of putting any further strain on Hermann’s Bad Side, and Hermann selects a steady rhythm with which to jerk him off.

His arms slide up over Hermann’s broad shoulders, hands resting firmly on the back of Hermann’s neck. Newton is hot and needy in his grip, bucking his hips to rut clumsily against Hermann’s hand as though the notion of finding it in himself to thrust in sync with Hermann is asking too much of him.

Hermann wriggles his other hand up under Newt’s t-shirt, savoring the heat there, the curve of his hip, the muscle that ripples along his back beneath his tattoos as he moves. He kisses Newton’s cheek, his nose, his lips, his thin eyelids, the pleasured pinch between his furrowed eyebrows.

“Herm- _oh_ , fuck, Hermann,” he whines, voice breaking and trailing off into a low, wanting sound from the back of his throat. Hermann cranes his head to kiss down the length of Newton’s neck, mouthing at his vulnerable, fluttering pulse point. Newt’s fingers tighten around the collar of Hermann’s open shirt, pulling, and he scrambles with his other hand for an anchor in the messy top of Hermann’s dark hair. He drags the hard edges of his teeth along the soft expanse of Newton’s exposed throat just enough to make him croon, the begging chorus of his name spilling from Newton’s lips above him threatening to have him half-hard again.

Hermann strokes him faster, urgency matching the pace at which Newton babbles mindlessly and squirms against him. He grinds himself into Hermann’s tight hold, hips rolling desperately. Newton comes with a shout, his body going rigid when the first hot ropes of semen splash onto Hermann’s shirt, then quivering uncontrollably beneath Hermann’s gentle hands as the aftershocks rip through him. Newton quiets himself, relaxing into the sturdy comfort of Hermann’s embrace. He puddles, all exhaustion and body heat, against Hermann. The burning pull of pleasure ebbs away like the tide, replaced by the same simmering, sated warmth of a good cup of coffee. Newton rubs his fingers along the bristly grain of Hermann’s undercut, nestles into the space between Hermann’s sharp chin and welcoming chest.

Hermann smiles, squishes his cheek on the top of Newton’s head. “I'll miss you quite terribly, my love. I really will.”

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to @prunewt on twit for inspiring me bless u !! find me on twitter Also @kaijubf


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